


Pine Needles, Olive Oil, and Honey

by djupcake



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: And honestly just to be safe, Annaduna, But whatever, Dirty Thoughts, Dresses, F/F, I mean none of this makes sense, Incest, Masturbation, Muffled Orgasm, implied elsanna, it will make sense, shut up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djupcake/pseuds/djupcake
Summary: "I'm not being weird!" Anna exclaims as she then proceeds to do something...INCREDIBLY weird. I don't know why I wrote this.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney), Anna/Iduna (Disney)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	Pine Needles, Olive Oil, and Honey

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Figures the one piece of writing I put the most amount of effort into for weeks is smut. Look just bear with me here, alright? And for the record, I don't...actually know what a combination of pine needles, olive oil, and honey would smell like. Hopefully it's good?

* * *

Let it be known that Anna has never done this before. In fact, up until today, she hasn't stepped foot inside her parents' room in five years. But something, maybe boredom, compelled her to step inside the well-kept room. And then something else, maybe curiosity, lead her to her mother's armoire where all of her clothes lay dormant. And then something _else_ else, maybe a brief bout of insanity, caused her to take her mother's dress back to her own room.

And she was all but ready to blame all three of these something's when she subsequently put on said dress.

Purple isn't a color that she pulls off as well as Elsa and Iduna, and the high collar and shoulder straps feel much more restricting than she's expecting. Put simply she feels ridiculous, like she's a child trying on her parent's clothes because, well, she is.

But when she gets a glimpse of herself in the mirror, Anna can't help but gasp. Because she doesn't see her dorky, ridiculous reflection staring back, but rather Iduna's. Not literally, neither the dress nor the mirror is magic, but with her hands folded in front of her and the way she's done her hair up that day it...it feels like for a second, her mother is back.

And maybe the dress doesn't fit her as well, but in that moment she's never felt more like her mother's daughter. Tears threaten to well up in her eyes, and she wants to wipe them away but she isn't going to risk wetting or damaging Iduna's dress in any way. Thankfully, her door has just opened.

Wait. No. Not thankfully. She hasn't changed yet. And this is _not_ a situation she's ready to explain to anyone, because she doesn't understand why she's done this yet either. She turns around to sprint to her door and lock it, but by then it's too late.

Elsa looks at her with wide eyes and gasps, "Anna?"

For some ridiculous reason, Anna covers up her private areas, already covered by the dress, with her hands. "I'm not being weird!" she exclaims.

"...what?"

Anna removes her hands from her body and smooths out the sides of her mother's dress that is still very much on her. "I-I mean, hi! Hi, Elsa! This is...I mean, it's not what it looks like."

Elsa raises an eyebrow, "You're... _not_ wearing our mother's dress and crying?"

"I am not-" Anna blinks, and two traitorous tears travel down her cheeks. "Ugh, could you please just close the door?"

Without asking another question, Elsa closes the door and walks over to her sister. She frowns and wipes Anna's tears away with her thumb. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah no, everything's fine, I-" Anna sniffles. "Just got a little emotional, that's all."

Elsa remains concerned and unconvinced, she runs her hands along Anna's arm before taking Anna's hands into her own. "Are you sure? I've never seen you wear our mother's dress before."

"Don't worry, this is the first time I've done it. Honestly, I...I can't explain why I'm wearing it. But I'm fine, trust me. Just seeing me wearing it in the mirror made me miss her. Does that make sense?"

"Maybe a little?" Her sister says, although Anna knows she's just saying that to ease her shame.

Anna's shoulders slump, the straps don't travel with her. "Yeah, I figured it wouldn't."

But supportive as she always is, Elsa adjusts the dress' straps and loosens the collar, making it much easier for Anna to move and breathe. "If it makes you feel any better," she remarks, "you look beautiful in mother's dress."

Anna's sure she's never blushed harder. And she's just about to lean forward and capture Elsa's lips with her own, but she realizes how wrong that would be. Not because she's her sister, but because she's still in her mother's dress. And that's not something she even wants to begin exploring. Were she wearing her own clothes, Anna wouldn't hesitate to express the love for her sister that they've been expressing for almost a year now.

So, she controls herself. But because she even needs to control herself, her body and mind begin to heat up. Did Elsa lock her door? Do they have time?

No!

Bad Anna!

She shakes her head vigorously, her hair bun threatening to come undone. "Brr," she says. "Ugh, okay I need to get out of this dress."

"Everything okay?" Elsa asks while placing her hands on Anna's hips, seemingly unfazed.

"Yeah, you know it's just...hot. Warm! Hot warm. Warm hot. I'm really warm in this dress, gosh I don't know how mother wore this all the time."

Elsa giggles, "I'm sure she got used to it. Do you want me to help you?"

That definitely doesn't help cool Anna down. "No, I've got it!" she exclaims, placing her hands above Elsa's chest without thinking. "You can just go now if you want. Yeah, you've probably got queen things to do so yeah you gotta go."

The smile on her sister's face is amused but difficult to understand. Is she smiling because she loves spending time with Anna, or because she loves toying with Anna? Or maybe it's both. It's probably both. "My duties are actually finished for today," Elsa says. "I came here to see if you would join me for dinner."

Ah dinner, her second favorite meal. Wait when did Elsa pull her closer? "Dinner sounds great," she squeaks. "Lemme just change and I'll join you."

Elsa raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"Uh...what do _you_ mean?"

"You don't want me to stay?"

"I…" Anna feels like her whole brain needs to reset.

Elsa laughs again, "I'm only teasing you, my love. I'll see you downstairs in a little bit, okay?" She sneaks in a quick kiss on Anna's lips and walks out the door before she can say anything else. And Anna's left speechless, breathless, boneless, and other words that end in "-less".

It takes a minute for Anna to finally breathe, and she turns around to see the amount of redness on her face traveling down her neck. She wonders maybe if it hadn't been so long ( _weeks_ ) since she and Elsa have been intimate that it'd be easier for her to control her depraved thoughts. Even now, she's still thinking about Elsa's hands on her hips, Elsa's lips on her own, Elsa's eyes on her body and _she's still in her mother's damn dress._

Anna tugs at the sleeves to pull her arms out of the holes, and hurriedly grabs the bottom of the dress, all while hyper-aware of how aroused she already is. It would be redundant to say how ashamed she's feeling.

When she pulls the dress over her head, the fabric rubs against her somehow _already_ perked nipples and she smells the faint scent of her mother's perfume. The forest scent still lingers after all these years, and the calmness she feels from it mixes with her embarrassment and overall lust. It should not mix well, and yet...and yet it does.

And now here she stands, naked in front of her mirror with her mother's dress folded against her arm. She no longer sees her mother in the mirror, instead, she sees a woman whose flushed complexion has now reached her freckled shoulders. And she blames a lot of something's- the mere presence of Elsa, the lack of touch, the scents and sights- for what she does next.

Curious and alone, she lets her hand travel from her hips to between her legs.

She's _very_ wet, much more than she's expecting. And the mere grazing of her thumb against her clit almost threatens to bring her to her knees. It feels good, she's never entertained the thought of touching herself (solely deciding that's Elsa's job) but the jolt it gives her from her crotch down to her toes is exhilarating. And she wants more.

But not like this, not while she's staring at herself in the mirror, that's a line she doesn't feel like crossing at the moment. Anna debates for a second if she has time for this, and if this is something she's really about to do, and after that second is up, she gives herself an answer.

"Fuck it."

Anna lays, almost jumps, onto her bed and spreads her legs slightly. After a short breath, she lets her hand continue its job from earlier. After sliding one finger against her slit, she gasps. "Oh my…" she says breathlessly.

She repeats this motion, one finger going up and down against her slick folds, each repetition better than the last. And Elsa's fingers will always feel much better down there, but the job she's doing herself is serviceable at worst and amazing at best. Gosh, she already feels like she's going to burst and she's barely done anything.

One errant sliding of her finger reaches her clit once more and she yelps, "Ah!"

Too loud.

Much too loud.

Is her door locked? Ah it's too late to check. But she has to be quieter, the last thing she wants is to get caught by the castle staff. Or Olaf. How would she even go about explaining masturbation to a snowman? Do they have any frame of reference for-

Anna shuts herself up as her finger starts deliberately circling her clit. Unlike Elsa, whose touch is so delicate that Anna sometimes has to beg her to touch her harder, she presses down and moves in quick untamed circles.

"So good," Anna says to herself. "Why does this feel so _good_?"

That last word, again, is louder than she wants to be. She has to be quieter but she's unsure if she can, Elsa always freezes the walls so they're not heard because Anna's always so _vocal_. Without those icy walls, she needs to find something to muffle her cries.

She turns, still working on herself, to grab her pillow but draped right on top is a forest-scented...alternative.

No, she thinks to herself, she wouldn't. She _couldn't._

But the scent of her mother is so soothing, so calming, she feels as if she _can_ be quieter now. She can touch herself to completion without needing to cry out in ecstasy. She forces herself to slow down, gently uses two of her fingers to move up and down against her vagina on auto-pilot. She lets her rationality take over for a second, wondering if _this_ is a line she wants to cross. She thinks of the ramifications, the implications, the turning point. And then, she says to herself decidedly:

"Fuck it."

With her free hand, Anna grasps her mother's dress and brings it to her face, breathing in the faint scent of pine needles, olive oil, and honey. And with her other hand, she plunges into her depths.

"Yes," she says as she shuts her eyes. "Oh god yes."

It feels so good and feels so wrong, and as if she's not conflicted enough already even more memories start pouring in. The long family walks by the fjord, the embarrassing conversations she had with Iduna when she was nearing her "age of womanhood", the nights by the fire when Anna would rest her head in her lap. Pure, wholesome memories of her loving mother.

Memories that bring her _closer to the edge._

She tries to push them away, tries to see Elsa's face and her lips and fingers working inside her walls. But flashes of Iduna's smile, her gorgeous eyes, invade her thoughts. And they meld together with the images of Elsa. One second, it's Elsa pumping her fingers in and out, the next it's Iduna looking right through her with one hand resting near Anna's head to steady herself. One second it's Elsa's lips on her neck whispering words of admiration, the next it's Iduna's lips nibbling on her ear.

One second it's Elsa's head between her legs, the next it's Iduna's.

Her mother and sister, images battling and flashing in her mind, one not giving in to the other. It's their faces she sees, but her own fingers that bring her higher and higher, up to her peak. Anna's heart races, her breathing grows more erratic with each passing stroke, all while memories meld with memories. Touches congregate with touches. Her mother's dress between her teeth, her scent piercing her nostrils, her voice hushed against her ears. It's Iduna, it's Elsa, it's both.

And suddenly Anna can't take it anymore, and she comes with a yelp and whimper. She turns to her side and curls into herself, fingers pushed in all the way to the knuckle. And with every breath she takes to come back down to Earth, the more of her mother's scent she breathes in.

It...it takes her a minute to get her bearings.

But it takes more time than that to realize what the hell she did. Try as she might to think of lighter words, the blunt truth of her actions stares her down. She just masturbated to the thought of her mother. And yes, maybe Elsa was in her thoughts too, but she's her sister so that's not even close to being any better.

She came with her mother's dress in her mouth. She cried out with thoughts of her mother between her legs. She orgasmed while breathing in her mother's scent.

With her free yet still shaky hand, she takes her mother's dress off her face and presses it to her chest. An embrace with someone lost but definitely not forgotten. Her heart doesn't feel like it's close to calming down any time soon. Her mind is...well she's not in any position to understand where _that's_ at. Slowly, she pulls her fingers out of herself and her legs twitch from the absence of her touch.

After another minute, she leans over to lay on her back, looking at the ceiling. Her hair bun is frayed and messy, and the dress is damaged and stained by her teeth and saliva. One of her hands is marked with her wetness, the other holding the symbol of whatever has just awakened in her. What does this mean, she wonders. Where does she go from here? Would she...will this happen again?

All these questions will have to wait for an answer.

Because once again her unlocked door betrays her, and with barely enough energy to look up from her bed, Anna can only watch as the knob turns.

"Anna?" she hears Elsa ask as the door opens.


End file.
